


Camellia Blossoms

by Padfoots_Pawprint



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Could be romantic, F/M, Not exactly character death, Or platonic, ish?, more like character intensely wounded?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padfoots_Pawprint/pseuds/Padfoots_Pawprint
Summary: A moment in between life and death, a slice in time, draws out more emotion in her meister than Tsubaki has seen in a long time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater

Camilia blossoms had one of the darkest hues known to man. It had at one point, been called a blood flower, that bloomed like fresh blood against a white shirt. That was before people had been introduced to roses and other, dark coloured flowers. On many occasions, Tsubaki had related all she knew of the blood flower she was named after to her meister, but on almost all occasions, he'd brush it off. He gave her, and everybody else, the impression that things like that didn't matter and winning the battle was of the utmost importance. Black*Star was a God among swine and he never went a day without telling someone that, even if it was his partner, the one who had heard his speech a billion times.  However, Tsubaki knew that wasn't true at all, and now, with her blood staining the dark battlefield, everyone would know how much he cared. About names. About people.

About her.

He made his teammates listen when he spoke, his voice rougher than in their childhood days. Puberty had worked wonders, Tsubaki thought lightly, as he conducted his team, taking in every piece of advice his tacticians gave him. She'd scarcely ever seen him so focused, remembering how she'd commented only days ago that puberty had done nothing to his maturity level.

His arms tightened around her body as his companions scattered at his request, and he immediately began to tend to her wounds, whispering words of comfort.

“You'll be okay.” Black*Star got out as he took the bandages from his side pouch. When she thought about it, she had told him to bring some, but had never actually thought that he would.

She shook her head, stopping when she realized it hurt too much to move. “I won't be,” she said to him, her tongue heavy in her mouth.

“Yes, you will,” he said roughly, using his teeth to cut the bandage from the roll. With her head in his lap, Tsubaki could see how far he was getting with the treatment.

And how badly his hands were shaking.

She swallowed, ignoring the taste of blood in her mouth, and raised a hand to stop him. She winced a little at the effort, but persisted, placing her hand on his in an attempt at comfort. “I don't think so, Black*Star. Just let me be.”

“No way, Tsubaki, that's not going to happen. How am I supposed to _leave_ my weapon? Tell me how!”

“You just set me down here and fight the witch,” said Tsubaki, “It's the only way to beat her.”

“No, it's not,” he snarled, “I will protect you _and_ kill the witch for what she did to you. What kind of god leaves his only weapon?”

“A god that knows when it is time to take on a new weapon, Black*Star. There are plenty of weapons-”

“But none of them are you,” said Black*Star, pulling the bandages tight over her recently received arm-wound. He bit off a new strip and continued to tie it around the top of the wound, his teeth sinking into his lip in concentration.

“Well, you're going to need to find another weapon because-”

“No, I'm not!” Tsubaki hissed at the sudden tightness about the top of her arm. He let go angrily, glaring down at her. “Stop saying things like that. You make it sound like you’re going to die.”

She smiled sadly, brushing his cheek as if it could show him everything she wished to tell him; her adoration, her thanks, her _respect_. “You’ll surpass God someday, Black*Star, just not with me.”

“You can’t!” And he was suddenly a child again, eyes burning with his fists clenched. He slammed a hand on the ground and she winced again. “You can’t _do_ this.”

“Black*St-“

“No!” She watched in horror as tears began to leak out of his eyes, her heart breaking for her meister. He was still so young…he didn’t need to know what it felt like to lose a companion at his age. He was made for greater things; for sunshine and wild adventures and star-like wonders. To carry on and become the greatest hero the world had ever known. It was only a pity that after their six years together, she could not see his dream accomplished. “No, you can’t die. It’s not fair. You’re supposed to be a death scythe today! We were supposed to defeat God.”

“Not today,” she said gently, losing energy. Her hand fell, but Black*Star grabbed at it, holding on as if their lives depended on it. He held it close to his chest, staring at her with a fear that she hadn’t seen in him in a long time. She heard an explosion –perhaps the witch was on the move again- and her heart beat quickened with fear for her partner. “It’s not safe, Black*Star, you need to leave.”

“NO!” He leaned over her and she could feel tears on her bloodied face. There was no dark sky or dismally destroyed town; just the face of her meister. “I can't lose you again! It’s not fair.”

“It’s never going to be fair.” Tsubaki’s throat felt dry and raw, her legs already numb; she couldn’t feel anything below her hips. “Death doesn’t work like that.”

“Kid wouldn’t do that to me. He can’t _take_ you from me.”

“He can because he must,” she whispered, staring up at him with a sadness that squeezed at her heart. Maybe if she had been a better weapon, a stronger weapon, than he wouldn’t have to be subject to this kind of tragedy. His tears splashed onto her cheeks, and soon she was crying as well. _This_ was the face that she would never get the chance to see again. This was the person she had treasured much of her teen life. This was the person that had given her a reason for living.

Black*Star.

“You’re mine, Tsubaki, they can’t take you from me,” he said again. “I won’t let them.”

The throbbing feeling in her head worsened, and Tsubaki felt distant, like she was fading. Was this what death felt like? Black*Star’s face blurred before her eyes and she choked, the pain in her side flaring dangerously. “Tsubaki!”

The girl felt warm hands on either side of her face, but the pain was too overwhelming for her to concentrate on such a gesture. She gasped, hands desperately clinging to a strangely soft fabric. His scarf, she recognized vaguely.

“Black*Star,” she got out, before something warm and wet touched her forehead and then her lips.

“Stay here, Tsubaki,” she heard him say, his voice wavering only slightly. “Don’t die on me yet. Our performance isn't over yet.”

She shut her eyes tightly and smiled against his lips. “I'll try.”


End file.
